The intoxicating heat radiating off Marcus brushed her cheeks, his sultry, drunken voice ringing in her ears, "Darling."
Cornelia sobered up instantly. She tried to push him away, but he was much bigger than her, pinning her against the door. She was stuck. "Marcus, you've got me mixed up with someone else. I'm not your wife."
"Cornelia," he called her name, his voice gentle and heart-stopping. He reached up and pinched her chubby cheek. "You are Cornelia, my wife."
Cornelia was on the verge of tears. "Marcus, I'm your assistant Cornelia, not your wife Cornelia. We just share the same name. We're not the same person."
"I can't mistake my wife! You are my wife!" He stared at her, his eyes red and fierce behind his glasses, ready to devour her at any moment.
"I'm not! You've really got the wrong person!" As Marcus leaned in even closer, close enough to kiss her, Cornelia trembled in fear. "Marcus, is this fair to your wife?"
Marcus paused for a moment, and Cornelia took the chance to push him with all her might.
She didn't know if she was suddenly strong, or he was too weak, but she managed to push him back several steps.
Marcus, drunk as a skunk, lost his balance and fell towards the floor. Luckily, there was a couch behind him to catch his falling body.
Cornelia rushed over to see him asleep with his eyes closed.
Annoyed, she kicked him in the leg. "You jerk, if you miss your wife, go home and hug her. What makes you different from a jerk? I'm just your assistant, paid by you, not someone you can just grab and hug!"
After venting her anger, Cornelia felt much better. She returned to her room, did a quick wash up, then tried to sleep.
It was late, and after all that booze, normally she'd fall asleep as soon as she hit the bed. But tonight, Cornelia just couldn't sleep.
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